Ten Years
by pineapplegrl77
Summary: The squad remembering 9/11


**This is a little one-shot I wrote, in honor of today, all the victims, and survivors.**

**September 11, 2001, 8:06 am**

Olivia ran into the squad room, late. "Sorry," she said breathlessly, "We are being held momentarily because of train traffic ahead of us, please be patient," she mimicked. Elliot was pouring himself a cup of coffee, smiling, "More like you just hit the snooze button one too many times."

"Hey! I resent that comment!" Olivia said, punching him lightly on the arm.

"Ahh, the snooze button," Munch began, philosophically, "specifically designed to entice one's self into-"

"Shut-up," Jeffries cut him off with a laugh. Sighing, Munch got up for his third cup of coffee that morning. He looked at the empty pot and shook his head "Really guys? You always complain about my coffee making skills, yet none of you show any motivation to make it yourselves. It's always conveniently left empty for me to fill." Muttering about conspiracies, he changed the filter and the familiar gurgling sound filled the room. Rolling her eyes Olivia sat down at her desk and began to look through the un-done paperwork that always seemed to accumulate. Maybe they breed at night, she thought sarcastically.

"Okay guys, listen up!" Cragen called as he came out from his office. "I just got a call from the M.E. about Rachel Medows. Raped and murdered, found in a North Tower restroom on the 34th floor. Benson, Stabler, start interviewing the co-worker. She worked on the 53rd floor, Bernstein Co. Munch, Jeffries, canvas the neighborhood. She lived with her boyfriend in an apartment on 78 Church Street. Okay people. Move out!"

**North Tower, 8:44 am**

Olivia and Elliot flashed their badges at the sleepy security guard, who waved them onto the elevators. While they were waiting, Olivia flipped through the pad she kept her notes on. "So we have a Rachel Medows, 37, defense attorney, not a very good one at that.

"Revenge for losing a case?" Elliot suggested. Olivia nodded,

"That seems most likely." The elevator dinged, and Olivia, Elliot, and several others got in. Elliot punched the number 53 and the elevator started moving. 1st floor, 2nd floor, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th… there was a boom, the entire building shook, the elevator stopped, the lights went off. One woman began whimpering, oh my God, oh my God, over and over, several others whipped out their cell phones, two men began whispering to each other furiously. Olivia and Elliot exchanged glances, unsure of what had happened. Now the men were yelling at each other, another woman jabbering away in a foreign language on her phone, and the other woman was in full-blown hysterics.

"We've got to stop this," Olivia murmured to Elliot, who nodded in agreement. "NYPD," she said loudly, holing up her badge, and Elliot did the same. This move was one she had done so many times, it was almost comforting. All heads turned towards her, all talking ceased. Finally, someone spoke up, "What's happened?" Olivia took a deep breath,

"I don't know, possibly a power failure, or there was an emergency," she said soothingly. Or a bomb, a little voice in the back of her head said. She glanced at Elliot, but he was trying to contact whoever it was who was supposed to get them out of there, pushing the little red button that said, in case of emergency. Suddenly, she heard Munch's voice on her walkie-talkie.

"Liv? Liv! Where are you? Are you okay?" She grabbed it, glad for a distraction, but wondering how he knew they were trapped. "Munch! We're fine, but trapped in an elevator with-"she did a quick head count, "seven civilians. What's wrong?"

"A-a, something happened, something-" Munch was unsure what to say, the first time Olivia had ever heard him stumble on his words. "Liv, part of the North Tower, just, it just, exploded. It's on fire, there's an unbelievable amount of smoke coming out. It's- It's unbelievable." Olivia was stunned into silence, conversation quickly started up again. "Liv? You still there?"

"Yeah," she said faintly. "Where- where are you?" She choked out.

"Jeffries and I are in my car, we got, um, stuck in traffic, and pulled over when… it… happened."

"Where John? Where?" she said, more forcefully.

"Chamber street, less than ten blocks away." Then Elliot's walkie-talkie went off. Cragen's voice, fast and urgent came in.

"Elliot! Elliot! Are you and Liv alright?" Where are you? I don't know if you know this but the-"

"Yeah, I know, the North Tower's been hit," he said tiredly.

"Well, okay. Where are you?"

"Ready for the bad news? We're trapped in an elevator in the North Tower and we-" he stopped, knowing that everyone was listening. The words, might not make it out hung in the air.

"Does dispatch know?" Cragen's voice smoothly continued, but he too, had heard the un-said words.

"Liv's doing that now," Elliot replied tersely.

"Keep in touch." Elliot glanced at Olivia, who was repeating,

"This is detective Olivia Benson, badge number 4015. My partner and I are trapped in the elevator of the North Tower, between the 10th and 11th floors, along with seven other civilians, please alert First Responders." Over and over she repeated this, until Elliot was sure that they would be no response. He reached for his cell phone and dialed home, wanting to at least tell Kathy. He called 22 times, on the 23rd, she picked up.

"Hello? Stabler residence, may I ask who is speaking?" Elliot nearly cried with the relief of hearing Kathy's voice.

"Kathy, it's me. Part," he swallowed, "Part of the North Tower, we don't know what happened, but it just, exploded. Turn on the news, maybe they know."

"Oh God, Oh God. Oh my God! Elliot are you alright! Where are you! Can you come home? Should I go pick up Maureen and Kathleen?"

"Kathy." He said, interrupting her questions. "Kathy, I'm trapped in an elevator. I, I don't know if, if I will," he fought a rising panic in his throat. His voice dropped to a whisper, "I don't know if I'll make it out alive."

"No. No! Elliot you can't! You have to! For me, for the kids, for yourself! You can't Elliot! You can't!" She was sobbing by now, unable to imagine him dying. She was terrified, for him, for herself, for her kids, for all the people in New York. People can die so easily, she thought miserably.

"Shh, shh, of course I won't. But remember Kathy, I love you, I love,"

"No Elliot, you're coming home. You're not doing this!" She was sobbing again, so Elliot didn't continue. She knows already, he mused, and she'll tell the kids everyday. Then he told himself, no, you won't think like that. Elliot Stabler, he told himself, you are getting out of here come hell or high water.

Finally there was a response to Olivia's now desperate calls, a faint "Come in 4015." And then the much awaited "Alright, help is on the way."

Everyone climbed out of the elevator, one by one, relieved to be out of the cramped quarters. Elliot tried to call Kathy, but couldn't get through. Olivia walkie-talkied and called Cragen, but couldn't get through either. Finally, he tried Jeffries, and got through.

"Monique?"

"Elliot! How are you?"

"We're out, thank God. Where are you?"

"Still parked on Chamber. Elliot," The hesitation in her voice made him nervous. "Elliot, the-the second tower was hit, by this, this huge plane."

**9:58 am, Chamber street, 10 blocks away from the Twin Towers**

Munch and I stood outside his car, waiting. For what, I don't know. Looking around the street, everyone else was just gaping at the giant hole in the North Tower. Olivia and Elliot were out, and coming to meet us. Seeing that second plane was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. After working in svu for two years that was saying something. The fireball, was enormous. All I could think of were of the people trapped in there. Then, the worst thing possible happened, the Tower fell. A thick smoke came rolling at us. Everyone else was stunned, too horrified to move. Munch started yelling

"You idiots! Move!" Numbly I began to walk, to run, away, away from that dense smoke, the kind that could suffocate you in an instant. I heard Munch yelling at people to get inside, anywhere, to put something over your nose and mouth. Slowly, I joined him, yelling

"NYPD! Cover your nose and mouth! Get inside if possible. Run, keep running!" By now the smoke had crept up on us, it was on us, we were in it. I couldn't see, I grabbed at Munch, so we wouldn't get lost. At first I thought he would shake me off, put he wound up clutching me as hard as I was clutching him. Then, I felt a sharp pain behind my knee. I fell down, nearly pulling Munch down with me.

"Goddamnit Monique!" He tried to help me up, but my leg wouldn't support any weight and I fell down again. So he pulled me up again, but this time he put his shoulder under my arm, propping me up. Like this, we hobbled down the street, finally ducking into a clothing store with two of its windows blown out. A EMT came over and sat me on a table. He examined my knee and said,

"I think I can pull out the shards now, can I?" I nodded, tersely, and clutched Munch's hand. He made a face, but actually held on. I felt four jabbing pains in my knee, then it was over. The EMT wrapped my knee in a startlingly white bandage, compared to everything else that was covered in a thick layer of gray dust including myself.

"Can you walk this time or do I have to carry you again?" Munch's voice came up behind me, sarcastic as usual.

"Love you too Munch," I said with a smile, glad that we could use our easy banter again.

"We should probably help out over there," he said, pointing outside, where the dust had begun to settle and emergency workers were out and about. "We are two on New York's finest," he said with a wink. I sighed theatrically and followed him outside.

It was a whole other world out there. If I though inside was gray, outside was charcoal. Dust still swirled through the air, which had an orange-ish color to it, the sun attempting to break through. I still couldn't see more than a block in each direction. I looked around, unsure of what I should be doing. Finally, I spotted a woman with blood running down her arms and face, in hysterics crying over a body on the sidewalk. Two firemen were trying to talk to her, but it seemed they were having little luck. I walked over, flashed my badge, and motioned for them to hit the road. One of them shrugged and walked away, the other gave me a look that said, I'm terrified, what the hell should I do. He was young, no more than 25, I motioned for him to follow the other man, and he did.

I squatted down next to the woman, wincing at my hurt knee,

"Hi," I said softly, "I'm detective Jeffries, what's your name?" With no response I continued "Hey, that Tower was pretty crazy, huh?" I still had no response, so I tried a different route. "Who's this?" I said, motioning to the body.

"My, my, son!" I finally got a response, a mother's anguished cry, but a response all the same.

"Shh, it's okay, it's going to be okay." I repeated it over and over until I had convinced myself that too.

**10:08, somewhere in lower Manhattan**

Elliot and I stumbled along, my hand clutching his as we ran through thick, horrifying smoke from the Tower. I didn't even see it. One minute, we were out, thank God, of that God forsaken elevator, but looking up at the Towers in awe. The amount of smoke coming out was the most fearful thing I ever saw. Debris was falling, paper was burning, the building was burning. The press was taking pictures and trying to interview firemen and emergency workers just wanting to do their jobs, being annoying as sight almost made me smile. Then I saw him. At first I though it was debris, but debris don't wear ties. Horrified, I couldn't do anything but watch. He flew through the air at an alarming speed, then landed with a sickening thud. I didn't even bother going over there to check for a pulse. Looking up I could just barely make out other people, clinging to the windows outside, not wanting to be burned, unsure of whether they should make the leap. Elliot and I stood there, for how long I don't know, watching them, mesmerized, until the Tower fell.

We ran, we ran like never before, something sharp hit my arm, but I kept running. But the smoke, the smoke was too fast, and engulfed us until I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I was clutching Elliot like I had never done to anyone, ever, in my life. Finally, we didn't know where to go, we just got down on the street like they used to teach us in the Academy and waited. When the smoke cleared, it was a different world. Everything had this gray haze to it, I almost walked into a wall because I still couldn't see clearly. Bit by bit it cleared, until I saw a familiar figure walking towards us. Munch. I had never been so glad to see anyone in my life. I hugged him so tightly, he had to pry me off of him. "So, we're all alive." He said, classical Munch. "But where do we go now?"

I was about to respond when I heard the loudest rumble I had ever heard. Elliot was the first to make the connection "The second Tower," he said numbly. By now Jeffries had joined us and the four top detectives of the 1-6 ran for their lives, for the second time that day. This time, when the smoke became too thick we broke into a store. Elliot punched a hole through a glass something that had some how survived, and we all crawled in. Smoke was pouring through the hole, but we shoved a table in front of it and it wasn't so bad.

"Jesus Christ!" was all Elliot could say. Munch being Munch had to say

"Elliot, Elliot, Elliot, hasn't anyone ever taught you not to take the Lord's name in vain?"

"Shut up John," was all Elliot managed to say in between his coughs.

"Like I said earlier, what do we do now?"

"Well we have to get out of here," Jeffries said. Then they heard a voice out in the streets,

"This is the NYPD! We are evacuating lower Manhattan via the docks at Battery Park! Please make your way over there. If you need medical assistance, that is the place to go." Everyone exchanged glances and simultaneously headed towards the door. Only Munch angrily said

"Why wasn't I informed of this?"

Only once they were on the boat could they appreciate the true damage done. A huge smoke cloud hung over lower Manhattan, the only things heard were the helicopters overhead and the sirens.

"What the hell happened?" was all I could think.

**September 11, 2011, Squad Room**

"I can't believe it's been ten years," Olivia said to Elliot, shaking out her cramped hand from all the paperwork she always got behind on.

"I know," was all Elliot could say. They both remembered those terrifying moments, the elevator, the smoke; Olivia rubbed the scar from where a burning scrap of something had hit her arm. She wondered where Jeffries was now, how she was faring.

"Ten years," she repeated.


End file.
